


Without Him

by Golden_Asp



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Again, Angst, Bad Ending, Episode Ignis Spoilers, I say again, M/M, Sad, Short, The Bad Ending, pretty much from Gladio's pov, you had to know I'd eventually do something with this ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-28
Updated: 2018-03-28
Packaged: 2019-04-14 00:25:44
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 793
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14124141
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Golden_Asp/pseuds/Golden_Asp
Summary: Gladio and Prompto were left to plan a funeral.





	Without Him

**Author's Note:**

> more angst for your pleasure. I've been planning something for the bad ending for a while. This is what came out.
> 
> not beta-ed

Gladio and Prompto were left to plan a funeral.

There were so many people that should have had funerals after the fall of the city; the king, his father, countless, nameless others.

Gladio never thought he’d have to plan Ignis’ funeral. Ignis wasn’t supposed to be dead. If Gladio hadn’t seen it with his own eyes…

He would never forget finding Ignis’ corpse, burned from the power of the Ring, hand out like he was reaching for something. Gladio knew, deep in his soul, that Ignis was reaching for Noctis. There had never been anyone else for Ignis.

The sound of Noctis’ scream haunted Gladio every night, every time he closed his eyes, every time there was a moment of silence. Ignis’ name torn from his throat, a broken scream, Noctis pulling Ignis’ body into his arms.

He was still warm. They had missed his death by mere minutes. Noctis tried to bring him back, screaming and begging the Crystal for a boon, offering to trade his life for Ignis’, anything, just to see those green eyes one last time. Shaking fingers took Ignis’ skull necklace from his neck, clasping it around Noctis’ own.

Ignis skin had crumbled and crackled as Noctis pulled the ring off Ignis’ finger. Noctis cradled Ignis’ body, whispering something to him that Gladio couldn’t hear. Gladio watched as Noctis pressed his lips against Ignis’, tears dripping from Noct’s face to run in the charred crevices of Ignis’ face.

Noctis looked up at Gladio, and that look would never leave Gladio. He had never seen that look on Noctis’ face before. Rage, determination, desolation. Gladio fell to his knees next to the body of his oldest friend, and Noctis gently lowered Ignis into his arms.

Prompto knelt next to Gladio, tears streaming down his face. Noctis stood, silent. He took one last look at Ignis; dead, gone beyond their reach. His eyes searched Gladio’s and Prompto’s, and without a word he turned and walked to the glowing Crystal.

Gladio couldn’t watch as his king was absorbed into the very thing that they had counted on saving them. It had all gone horribly wrong. 

They went back to Lucis, to Caem, Ignis’ body wrapped in a shroud.

Cor met them at the dock, Iris at his shoulder. Gladio looked at Cor, wanting to collapse into the older man’s arms and weep. But he didn’t. 

“Where’s Ignis?” Iris asked, looking around with a frown. Cor closed his eyes. He could think of only one thing that would bring that look of utter sadness and despair into Gladio and Prompto’s eyes.

“He’s gone,” Gladio said hoarsely. “His…his body is on the boat.”

Iris burst into tears, running back to the house. Cor covered his face, taking a deep breath.

The burned Ignis’ body that night. Gladio gathered his ashes in a decorative urn, wrapping it in one of Ignis’ shirts. 

For ten years, he kept the urn safe. 

Noctis came back, harder, colder, ready to die.

They went to Insomnia, and Gladio carried Ignis with him.

Noctis nearly screamed when they walked into the throne room, and Ignis’ body hung beside Lunafreya’s, twisted and grotesque. 

Gladio grabbed his king by the arm. “It isn’t real. Ignis’ body is long ash. It is a trick.”

Noctis spun to face Ardyn, and the two kings vanished, weapons of light clashing.

Prompto stood next to Gladio, crying openly.

Gladio knew. He knew from the moment Noctis had passed Ignis’ body to him ten years earlier. Noctis was going to die.

Ardyn’s physical body was vanquished, and Noctis stood before them one last time. He thanked them for being his friend, and he thanked Gladio for watching over Ignis for him.

Gladio slowly handed over the urn, Ignis’ long worn shirt falling to pieces as the king touched it. Noctis nodded to them.

“Walk tall, my friends.”

He turned and walked up the steps, Ignis’ ashes tucked under his arm. 

Gladio and Prompto faced the daemons, trying not to think of what was happening in the throne room. 

The daemons stopped, and they sat on the steps, tears streaming down their faces.

The sun rose for the first time in years, and Gladio and Prompto went to the throne room.

Noctis sat on the throne, for the first and last time, speared by his father’s sword. His head was forward, hair obscuring eyes that would never see again.

His hand rested on the top of Ignis’ urn, fingers curled over it protectively.

Prompto let out a broken sob, and Gladio let his tears fall silently.

He went to his knees, bowing before his king.

He knew the truth. Noctis had died ten years ago, in Gralea. 

Gladio and Prompto were left to plan a funeral.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and kudos are love.


End file.
